Vehicle Pickle
by Gomro Morskopp
Summary: COMPLETE: When the Sloth needs repairs, an old nemesis sees an opportunity, and a menace that could put the Earth in danger looms ahead. Takes place somewhere between Episodes 70 and 71.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: nothing belongs to me if you've seen it on TV. Soundtrack for this chapter: _Hall of the Mountain Grill_ by Hawkwind; _Planetfall_ by Litmus; _We Came Too Late_ by DarXtar.

* * *

Her name was Kim Possible, and she could do anything: escape death traps, overcome lethal robots, parasail one hundred miles across open ocean, and perform a perfect scorpion at the peak of a cheerleader pyramid. When Ron had dragged her to see _The Helix Repetitions_, she'd been bored by the hero's bullet-dodging stunts, a simple feat for a teenage girl who could and did dodge laser beams. The digital cybervillain Agent Jones hadn't seemed much of a menace, either, when compared to Professor Dementor, Monkey Fist and the ever-dangerous team of Drakken and Shego; _real_ menaces, all of whom she'd faced and defeated. More than once.

The next weekend, after finishing their homework and preventing DNAmy from fusing the entire Columbus Zoo into one cute and cuddly supermonster, she'd persuaded Ron to watch the historical drama _Sense Insensibility _with her, and actually got him to confess, however grudgingly, that it was the better of the two movies. A practically impossible feat, as anyone who knew Ron Stoppable would readily admit. But her name was Kim Possible, and she could do anything.

Almost.

She was on the outskirts of Middleton and she was furious. "_RON_!"

"It – it's not so bad, Kim, really." Her boyfriend darted around the other side of the Sloth, trying to stay out of arm's reach. He'd been doing that since she arrived. "It's just a _little bit_ wrecked, is all."

Her remarkable vehicle lay in a ditch, fenders crumpled, tires splayed, windshield nonexistent. The powerful engines normally concealed in the trunk jutted out at odd angles, still spluttering.

Tired of Ron's antics, she vaulted over the car, advanced on him in rage. "I let you borrow it one time – _one time_! – and now _this!_"

Pinned between her and the Sloth, he threw his hands up, cried out: "No hitting no hitting _no hitting_!"

Curious about the uproar, Ron's naked mole rat Rufus popped out of his shirt pocket,squealed in panic and pantomimed the same motions. The absurd display somehow defused her anger.

" I'm not _Shego, _Ron. I don't _hit_."

He warily lowered his hands. "Just erring on the side of caution, KP."

Rufus chattered his relief, ducked back out of sight.

She looked over the damage, and her irritation turned to dismay. "It's _totaled_."

"That's why you have _insurance_," Ron helpfully announced. "Have you ever seen those commercials? The ones with the evil guy in the suit and tie? He's like, you know, _Chaos_ or something. They're hilarious_. 'I'm a charging rhino_ –'"

"I've only got _liability_. Club Banana wages don't go far enough for full coverage."

"So…liability _doesn't_ pay to fix your car?" He had a notepad out, scribbling furiously. "Good information to know. Got anything else?"

She growled. "Do _you_ have insurance, Ron?"

He hastily put the pad and pen away. Sometimes he saw more of Shego in his girlfriend than he cared to admit.

She walked around the car again, determined not to start crying. "What am I gonna _do_? When Mom and Dad find out, they'll go into orbit." They'd warned her not to let Ron behind the wheel. The conversation flashed through her mind, not improving her mood a molecule:

"_Honey," her mother had cautiously begun, over breakfast, "don't take this the wrong way. We love Ron."_

"_Just like a son to us," Mr. Dr. P had interjected, not looking up from the latest issue of _Missile Monthly_. "Look at that! Vernon finally got that crate off the ground! Hmmm…aniline and nitric acid. Well, there's no denying the classics."_

"_Like we were saying, Kimmie, we love Ron, but there are some things he just shouldn't be doing. Not till he, ah, _matures_ a little more."_

_She had finally realized where this was going. Sometimes her parents were annoyingly cryptic. "Oh, I understand. He's done with water polo, really." That had stopped just short of an international incident. The Serbian prime minister had been particularly incensed. "It was just a lark."_

_Her mother sighed. "Not so much the water polo thing, Kim."_

_Her father put down the magazine. "We heard that you let him drive your car last week."_

"_Dad, I had to. The Kepler was out of control and breaking threshold speed. I had to board it and shut it down." The improbable team of Motor Ed and Shego had been behind that caper; they were still at large, something that irritated her. Leaving loose ends wasn't her style._

"_Runaway rocket cars are the exception, not the rule. What about coming home from school last Friday?"_

"_I – I was texting Monique about something. It was just for a few blocks. I mean, you wouldn't want me texting behind the wheel, right?" A sheepish, innocent smile. Inside she was smouldering. They'd passed Bonnie at a red light; undoubtedly the snitch had turned her in. _

_Her parents' features were hard as flint. " Ron doesn't have a license," intoned Mr. Dr. P._

"_I do. And he's got a learner's. He can drive if a licensed driver's with him."_

"_Legally, that may be true, but don't you ride with him," her mother said. " We heard about poor George Bugatti." Ron's attempt at Driver's Ed had ended with Mr. Bugatti's nervous breakdown. One more class for Coach Barkin to teach. _

"_But he's trying –"_

_Her father was adamant. "We're glad he's trying. But until he succeeds, don't let him drive. That's all we're saying. He's got his scooter and that's sufficient."_

But the scooter broke down the day of the Fearless Ferret Fan Convention, and Ron had begged and pleaded and even used the Puppy Dog Pout on her, promising that the car would be all right. No one would ever know.

And she'd given in.

"Maybe _we_ can fix it," Ron suggested.

Kim made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a derisive laugh. "Have you been to automotive school? I haven't. And we sure couldn't fix it to begin with. Had to call in the Tweebs."

"Make another deal with them, then." He was trying to push a shattered headlight back into its bent socket. "After all, they built it, more or less." A second later he jumped back with a yelp, waving his pinched thumb in the air.

"They're at that science camp."

He was still nursing his wound. "Not Lake Wannaweep, I hope."

"No. Some place safer." _Safer until _they_ got there_, she thought, imagining rockets flying through the cabins. "For a month." The grim nature of the sitch suddenly came into focus. "I'm looking at a whole month… without wheels."

"You'll have wheels, Kim. My scooter'll be fixed in a couple of days."

"Yeah. Spankin'." The tone of her voice was cutting, but she didn't care.

"The guys at that new garage in Upperton can fix anything."

"Wait a minute. _What_ new garage?"

Connor blurted an oath when the phone rang; he was beginning to wonder if he'd ever get the new exhaust system on the Mayor's Porsche. "Y'ello, Auto Doctors," he said, politely. The Boss was watching him. The chick on the phone was pretty distraught, but he tried to play it cool. "Yeah… uh huh… Could be a while. Could be a coupla weeks. We're booked solid."

The Boss saw Connor's eyes go wide. Was this the chance he'd been waiting, hoping, praying for? They were running out of time.

"Solid propellant, or aniline and nitric acid?" There was a pause. "Lemme put you on hold a minute." Connor motioned to the Boss. "It's her, Boss, it's _Possible_. Her car's on the _fritz_. Sounds like it's a _wreck_."

"Is it _the_ car?"

"Pretty sure it's _the_ car, Boss. She's asking if we know anything about rocket engines."

"And we do, man. We do." Motor Ed grinned a great toothy grin. "This is _it_, man. This is the gift of the _gods_. Seriously." He spun around, wailed an ancient Hawkwind riff on the air guitar.

"So, uh, so what do we do?"

"Tell her we'll come and get it. Tell her it's on the house. Make up some craptastic story, something about it's our pleasure, dig? You're good with the words, Connor. Seriously. That's why you're our Dedicated Phone Man. "

"Yeah." Connor smiled. "I'll butter her up."

"Butter's not good enough . _Oleo_ her, man. _Oleo_. Make it sound real. Give it the ring of truth. Seriously. _The ring of truth_."

Wearing a sinister sneer, Connor returned to the phone. The Boss was a good guy to work for. He'd been weirding out ever since he went on that three-day vacation, but he did, at least, respect a man's talents. "Y'ello…Miss Possible? Yeah, you, uh, you're our 400th caller." He looked to his Boss for reassurance; Ed gave him the thumbs-up. "The whole fix is on us. Tow truck and all. It's the _contest_, you know, you probably heard about it on the _radio_. 400th caller gets a once-over free."

A moment later, Kim put the cellphone down in astonishment. "I won the contest."

"What contest?"

"The one on the radio, I guess. They'll fix it for nothing. 400th caller." She was still slightly stunned.

"Gift of the gods, KP – gift of the gods."

* * *

Motor Ed stood before the tow truck, giving final instructions. "Make it all good, man. Give Red a ride home, if she needs it. Dig? I want everything smooth as the neon finish on a brand-new Superbird. Seriously."

The truck pulled out, rattled off down the street, heading for the highway.

"So what are we gonna do with it, Boss?" Connor asked. "You been talkin' about it ever since we opened this garage. What's the caper?"

"No caper, man." Motor Ed was checking the wall calendar, a strangely relieved expression on his hirsute face. "We're gonna save the world."


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: nothing belongs to me if you've seen it on TV. Soundtrack for this chapter: _Live in Japan_ by Deep Purple; _Space Ritual_ by Hawkwind; _This Mortal Coil_ by Redemption.

* * *

"So, Miss Possible," said the man with _Connor_ stitched neatly above his shirt pocket, "she's ready to go. Just one bit of advice –"

Kim was astonished. It was impossible to tell that the Sloth had ever been wrecked. It was perfect. More than perfect. And they'd done it overnight . Her parents wouldn't even question her story about the "free tune-up". "Advice?"

"We pride ourselves here at Auto Doctors at being the best garage in the Tri-State Area. Maybe even beyond. But we don't work on grappling beams. They're sorta outside our field of expertise, so to speak. In fact, this is the first car I've ever seen that had one. Not standard equipment."

The Tweebs had finally installed it not long before they left for science camp. "Is it _broken_?"

"Not broken, but if you'd set it off now, who knows what might happen. So you're gonna need to take it somewhere to be recalibrated." Connor paused. "I'm not sure where. Same place you bought it, probably."

"That'll wait till my brothers get home," she remarked, getting behind the wheel. The vehicle was spotless. Even that nasty stain left from the Chocolate Malted Scampi Incident was gone. "It's beautiful," she told the mechanic, and the smile on her face, the sparkle in her eyes, made him think of his own daughter. He hadn't seen her in years, not since the divorce. Zoey'd taken everything, including his kid. She'd be about Kim's age now.

"Yeah," said Connor, "beautiful. Have a good day, Miss Possible."

He watched the vehicle pull out, blaze into the distance. Wondered what he'd gotten into. When he joined Ed, he thought Auto Doctors was just another chop shop; outwardly respectable, covertly dealing in stolen vehicles and parts. He'd been wrong. The things they'd done to Possible's vehicle were way out there.

Motor Ed had been watching the transaction on the security monitors; now he stepped out, stood just inside the garage, looking out at the highway like a worried sailor watching the storm approach . "Come on, man, we've got five more cars to fix by 5:00. And they don't need all the _special stuff_. Be a breeze compared to Red's overhaul." He relaxed a bit, even laughed.

"I thought the plan was, you know, honest by day, dishonest by night."

"That was the old plan, man. " He wailed out another metal riff. "It is now officially bogus." The air guitar thing was getting pretty annoying. "We've got a new plan now."

"Ed," Connor began, "I don't know if I can get behind this."

"Seriously?" The raised eyebrow was filled with menace.

"She's a hero, ya know?" _And she's just a kid_, he thought. "I mean, I know she's crossed you a coupla times, but – but if this is all about revenge, man, I'm havin' a hard time with it."

"Revenge." Ed guffawed, slapped his Dedicated Phone Man on the back, a bit too hard. " No, man. It was _never_ about revenge. At first it _was_ just the chop shop thing. A quick berry harvest after the _Kepler_ mess. I spent everything I had on that, man." For a moment, he wondered where Shego might be, what she might be doing. Man, she was hot. The _Kepler_ cruise would have been the best road trip ever. Even if she had freaked him out a little with her desire for destruction. Destruction was definitely heavy metal, sure, but you can't doom the world to chaos. Because it's where you live.

That sobering thought brought him back to reality. "But things have changed, man, and we gotta do something_. I_ gotta do something. I broke it, man, and I'm the only one who can fix it."

"Fix what?"

The big man frowned. "The _problem_, man! Red's got some way wicked road skills, but they won't save the world. She's not good _enough_. But now _we've_ got what it's gonna take. "

"Sure thing, Boss, "said Connor, unsure about everything. "Just, ya know, what _is_ it gonna take? And why is it _takin' it?" _

"I'll tell ya later, man. No time now. But I got no need to hurt Possible. Seriously. It's not about that." It was about having a world left to live in. "Now let's get back to work."

* * *

Ron was on the corner of Simak Street and Nourse Avenue, waiting for Kim to pick him up. The Sloth had proven easier to repair than his scooter. It figured.

While he waited, he studied the strange sculpture on the corner with a feeling somewhere between fear and nausea. Modern art did that to him. It appeared to be a man, or figure representing a man, but it was grotesquely distorted. Its bowed legs were far too long, its torso much too squat and short, its hands mere blobs, and its head was not unlike certain freakish images in Picasso's _Guernica, _with no more than misshapen holes for eyes.

The whole thing was garish neon yellow, the ghastly icing on the abominable cake.

The sudden blurt of the horn startled him. "Come on, Ron, let's _go_! We're gonna miss the season premiere of _Agony County_!"

"Did you see that thing back there?" he asked, buckling his seatbelt.

"I saw it." She rolled her eyes. "Gorchy."

"What is it?"

"Probably something left over from last month's Middleton Art-Walk." Something about the weird figure had both scared and repulsed her, a feeling she was sure Ron wouldn't understand. After all, he was the one who stayed up for hours playing Zombie Mayhem on the Super Nintendo. When she pulled up, he'd been gaping at the statue as if hypnotized. _Weird_ was his meat and potatoes.

She glanced over at him, considering how very different they were, wondering where the future would lead them.

Simultaneously she accelerated, passed a barely-moving Lexus, slipped through three lanes of stampeding traffic, and zoomed down the off-ramp toward home.

It was their differences that made them an unbeatable team, though. Synergy. One's weakness was the other's strength. A memory of that awful moment in the Bueno Nacho head office flashed through her mind. Drakken would never know how badly his plan had hurt her, how completely crushed she had been. Not simply by Eric's betrayal, but by her own blindness. She should have seen that the new student was too good to be true. She should have recognized a trap.

She should have known he wasn't human. She hadn't, and that blunder had almost given Drakken and Shego the world.

Bound and awaiting certain death, she would have given up if not for Ron. He had cut through the self-pity that threatened to smother her; he had seen hope when she could see nothing but darkness.

That was also the moment they'd finally realized how much they meant to each other.

Silently, Ron watched a dozen different emotions sweep across his girlfriend's beautiful features in under a minute, beginning with a frown thrown in his general direction, ending with a little smile, a momentary glance, a strange, seductive light in her big green eyes. He had no idea what she might have been thinking. Even without a Moodulator's influence, Kim's moods were as fluid as quicksilver.

He decided not to ask.

The Sloth pulled into the driveway; the teens jumped from it, bolted to the house, just in time for their favorite show. Tonight they and all of America would find out what happened to Diane in the elevator. _Agony County_ was known for its season-ending cliffhangers; this had been a particularly ominous one.

Neither of them noticed the cherry red sculpture not far from the house, almost hidden among the trees. Like its yellow counterpart in downtown Middleton, it seemed almost threatening. A ridiculous attribute for a work of abstract art.

A squirrel chattered at it in alarm, ran away.


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: nothing belongs to me if you've seen it on TV. Soundtrack for this chapter: _In A Gadda Da Vida _by Iron Butterfly; _To Shatter All Accord_ by Discipline; _Live Chronicles _by Hawkwind.

* * *

Kim woke up in a panic, nudged the slumbering figure beside her. "Ron. Wake up. "

This wouldn't have happened if her parents had been home. But they rarely got a night out together, and they'd seized the opportunity. They weren't worried. After all, Kim was eighteen, a senior in high school, a perfect A+ student, a smart, mature young woman.

Their daughter.

A Possible.

Someone they could trust. The brief note on the table told the whole story: _Going Out. Be Back Later. Have Fun._

"Get up. We both dozed off. Wake _up_."

This wouldn't have happened if they hadn't watched _Agony County_. After Tyler rescued Diana from Alfred's elevator trap, things had heated up on the little screen. And in the living room. It had started so innocently, there on the couch, Kim imitating Diana, calling Ron Tyler, breathlessly thanking him for saving her life.

They had just been playing around.

At first.

"Come _on_, Ron! You have to _go!_ "

This wouldn't have happened if they hadn't both wanted it, really. But they had. She had. She'd been on the Pill since the prom, waiting, hoping, barely daring to believe the night would come. And now she could barely believe she'd pushed it this far. It had all been so unromantic, so _clumsy_, so not at all like on TV.

Ron had seemed almost baffled by it all.

And now he was gently snoring in her bed, and any minute her parents might pull up in the driveway.

"_Wake up_!" One of her dad's favorite golden oldies began crazily playing in her head: "The movie wasn't so hot, it didn't have much of a plot / We fell asleep, our goose is cooked, our reputation is shot." _Reputation is shot, reputation is shot._ Her mother hated that song. For the first time in her life, she had an inkling of a reason why.

"KP," he mumbled, "why's Shego here?" He turned over, sank into deeper slumber with a noise. She wasn't sure if it was a fearful groan or a contented sigh, and for some reason that made her angry. She shook him hard. "_Ron!_"

"H-huh? _Wha!_" He sprang up, flailing his arms in some sort of martial-arts parody.

"Calm down, Captain Attacko!" Kim drew back until the momentary fit had passed. "It's me!"

"Man, what time is it –" One glimpse of the clock lent him a dose of Kim's panic. "Oh man, are we gonna get it!"

"No. No, we aren't. Mom and Dad aren't home yet."

"Right." He was up, hopping around, trying to find his clothes, trying to put them on. He had never forgotten Mr. Dr. P's threat, the first time he'd ever taken Kim out for a date, the time it had proven to all be Moodulator trouble. _One way trip. Deep space probe. Black hole deep. _ And even though he and Kim were both eighteen, and therefore legally adults, and therefore able to make their own decisions, he knew any explanations he might offer would be offered from within a payload capsule.

Time to go.

She was getting dressed, too, and for a moment she wondered why. It was her house, and she wasn't going anywhere. But it was important, somehow, to be dressed and awake and composed when her parents came in. Somehow it seemed like that would make a difference. Maybe there should be coffee. "Take the back way home. Don't get out on the sidewalk. If my folks see you, we're sunk. You're supposed to be home. I was supposed to take you home."

"Kim…I'm sorry…I know it wasn't what you expected…"

"What?" For a moment her vision blurred over; he had never been more correct, but she _couldn't_ let him know that. "No, no, that's not true. It was great. You were great. It was –"

They both heard it at once. An engine.

"That's it," Kim gasped. "We're dead."

Ron was at the window. "I can get out this way. Jump to the tree, climb down, take off. Like the Fearless Ferret."

"_No_." She had visions of screaming, of tumbling, of broken bones in the night. "We'll – we'll just face it."

Ron was still looking out the window. "That's not your folks' car, KP, " he said, just as she realized it too.

The Sloth.

She joined Ron at the window. The little vehicle sat in the driveway revving its engine, as if getting its bearings. Lights blinked on, off, on. The trunk opened, rocket engines extended; the engines retracted, the trunk slammed shut.

There was no one behind the wheel.

Kim's eyes narrowed; she tensed. "Call the police. Tell them – tell them my car's been stolen. I'm gonna see if I can stop this."

Before he could voice a protest, she had leaped from the window, caught a tree branch, somersaulted onto the roof of her car. Like a wild horse trying to buck a rider, the Sloth roared out of the driveway, tires screaming protest, shaking and swerving, and blazed erratically down the road. Ron bolted from the room, through the house, out the front door and stopped in the street, powerlessly watching the tail-lights recede in the distance. At least the rocket engines hadn't kicked in.

Lights came up behind him, a horn honked. He spun around.

"Ron!" Mrs. Dr. P's alarmed voice. "Why are you standing in the road?"

"Almost hit you, son!" her husband added. "What's going on?"

"Kim – Kim's been kidnapped. Car-napped. Whatever. Someone's got control of her car."

"Get in."

He didn't hesitate. As they took off in pursuit, he realized one of those creepy statues, a red one, was standing in the Possibles' front yard. Strange he hadn't noticed it there before. "Did you see that?"

Mr. Dr. P. was intent behind the wheel; his wife turned to answer the boy. "What, Ron?"

"Weird statue on your lawn." The headlights revealed a green example, ominously overlooking the highway from an overpass. Ron pointed wildly. "Like that."

"We've seen those things all over Middleton tonight. Ugly. If there's one on our property, I'll have it removed. I don't care what the Middleton Art Community thinks."

"They can't just go around inflicting _art_ on people," Mr. Dr. P. added. "That's why we have laws." The Sloth's crazily bouncing tail-lights were visible far ahead. "Why were you out in the road, Ronald?"

He stammered. "I – I – Kim's been kidnapped!"

"You should have been home," said Mr. Dr. P, without glancing away from the road. "Not at our place." He accelerated going into a turn, eating up the distance between their vehicle and the Sloth. The tires screeched, but held the road. "We'll talk about this later, son. "

He swallowed hard. "Will we talk about it before the – launch, sir?"

"That depends on you, Ronald. Honesty goes a long way with me." They were closing on the little car. "OK, we've caught 'em – anybody got a plan?"

"I do," Ron announced.

"I thought you might," said Mr. Dr. P.

* * *

Kim had entered the car via the sunroof, of course. That had been a no-brainer. She hadn't expected four robotic tentacles to lash out and pin her to the driver's seat, however. Something new. Obviously she'd gotten a lot more than she bargained for at Auto Doctors.

As they roared down the road, a familiar voice regaled her from the radio. "Hey, Red! How ya been? "

"Motor Ed." She wasn't surprised. This was definitely his sort of crime. "So you're Auto Doctors. I should have known that contest was too good to be true." She struggled in the seat to no effect; tried to get to her laser lipstick and failed. "So what's the sitch? Payback for the _Kepler_?"

"The sitch? You can't handle the sitch. Seriously."

"Try me." She glanced at the rear-view mirror, thought she recognized the quickly approaching headlights. Wasn't sure how that could help her, but she'd take anything at this point.

The Sloth snorted, lost momentum for an instant. The car behind them leaped forward. "Who built this thing for you, Possible? A ten-year-old?"

"More or less."

The car downshifted, snarled its protest. "It's a sweet ride, but it's put together like nothing I've ever driven. Gonna take me a little while to suss it."

"You'll have plenty of time to think about it in prison. Still working with Shego?"

"My green lady up and left me. Not happy with my way wicked awesome plan. So I opened Auto Doctors to make some quick bucks." There was a pause. The Sloth hurtled between several other vehicles, dodging in and out of traffic, trying to shake their pursuer. "Then I got abducted."

She wasn't sure she'd heard him right. "You got _what_?"

"But when this is over, I'll be a hero, Red. Seriously. I'll get a medal at the U.N. A full pardon. Because I'm gonna save the world."

"If the world's in trouble, you're probably responsible." Behind them, Ron was somehow standing on top her parents' car, poised, ready to leap. She felt a thrill go through her; when the chips were down, he really _was_ her Tyler.

Of course, Tyler didn't need Diana's help to save her from Alfred. She was pretty certain that wouldn't be the case here.

There was a thump as the teen sprang onto the speeding Sloth. "Come _on_," snarled the radio voice, "can't you kids use Public Transit? I got a world t'save! How do ya kickstart the rocket engines?"

"Oh, right, like I'm telling _you_." The windows lowered; two tentacles untwined from around her legs, shot out, reaching for the roof, for Ron. She raised her voice in a cry of alarm. "Ron, _look out_!"

A second later he was dangling in front of the windshield, enveloped in the metal coils. "Check."

"Hang on." She smiled, seeing how securely, how safely he was trapped , and slammed her foot down hard on the brake. The car squalled to a halt, almost flipped over, steadied itself on the side of the road. From the radio, Motor Ed swore; a tentacle frantically unwrapped itself from her arm, dragged her foot away from the pedal. She instantly grabbed her laser lipstick, sheared the tentacles off at their bases. "Not so good at thinking on your feet, are you, Eddy?" She flipped open the little panel on the steering column, punched the emergency cut-off button.

The Sloth's engine stopped.

"Stop!" screeched the radio. "I gotta have these wheels! I'm runnin' outta time!"

"Not tonight." Ron was rolling around on the berm trying to disengage himself from the inert but still tight coils; she jumped out to help him. "Kim, _look out_," he shouted.

She laughed. "They're dead, Ron."

"Not the tentacles_. Behind you_!"

She spun around, ready for a fight, not knowing what to expect. Nothing she could have expected would have been as strange as what she saw.

Her parents were surrounded by coloured statues. Held hostage. By modern art.

The yellow one, the one they had seen in Middleton, flowed anomalously toward them. "…There …is …no …more …time," said an alien voice, each word spiraling up out of silence in an unnatural, somehow terrifying way. "…Scheduled …challenge …will …begin …shortly."

"I tried to tell you, " came Ed's forlorn voice, from within the Sloth. "Seriously."

This wasn't at all the kind of evening she'd envisioned.


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: nothing belongs to me if you've seen it on TV. Soundtrack for this chapter: _Stratosfear _by Tangerine Dream; _Cyborg_ by Klaus Schulze; _Quark, Strangeness and Charm_ by Hawkwind.

* * *

Kim glared at the multi-coloured creatures that had surrounded her parents, the abstract forms they'd mistaken for sculptures. "Mom! Dad! Are you all right?"

"Just fine, Kimmy-cub," came her dad's jocular voice, from somewhere within the crowd of brightly coloured cookie-cutter entities. "A little baffled, but ok."

"Yeah, I think that goes for all of us." She cautiously approached the yellow creature. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"…We …are …the …Septenant …from …origin …point …Kromengel."

"Another planet?"

"…Kromengel …is …not …a …planet. …Higher …phase …of …existence."

"I think they're from another dimension," her father yelled, over the buzzing and humming of his Septenant captors. "They look the type."

The yellow entity suddenly elongated itself, towering over Kim. "…Scheduled …challenge …begins. …Select …your …operator."

"Ed!" Kim shouted, never taking her eyes off the yellow giant.

"Yeah?" replied the radio.

"What are they talking about? Why are they here?"

Ron spluttered disdainfully. "Kim, he doesn't know anything about these guys! He's just a biker with delusions of grandeur!"

"Might be, Blondie," snarled the radio voice, "but I know _all_ about these guys. They're the ones who abducted me."

"…Select …your …operator!" the creature demanded.

"So what's the sitch, Ed?" Almost involuntarily she took a single step back away from the ominous being and hated herself for it. "They're all about some sort of _challenge_."

"That's kinda my fault, Red. It's all a big misunderstanding. Seriously."

_One minute he'd been out behind Auto Doctors, thinking about She-babe and her green magic again, and the next second he'd been aboard their ship, pinned down like a bug by some sort of gravity beam, confronted by the bizarre Septenant. _

_At least he guessed it was a ship. It was really like nothing he'd ever imagined. _

"_Hey, this is bogus, man. What's goin' on?"_

_Yellow spoke. "…You …are …a …leader …of …your …people?"_

_Ed was too unimaginative to be astonished, too dense to be afraid. "You bet, man. I'm Motor Ed Lipsky. Auto Doctors boss. Best driver, best mechanic, best chopshop operator on the planet." He wailed out a Deep Purple riff, his air guitar severely impeded by the gravity beam. "I'm always in the lead, weird yellow dude. Others follow. If they can. Seriously."_

_They conferred among themselves, all buzzes and hums, and returned to the table. "…We …will …speak …with…Earth …leader …Motor …Ed …Lipsky. …What …is …your …culture's …greatest …technological …achievement?"_

_There had been no hesitation. "The _car_, man! _Nothing_ beats the _car_. Think of it, man, blazin' down the road, aluminum W16 engine under the hood, 1200 wild horses, man, 1200_ _wild horses. Seriously. Candy apple red, tricked out with flames, nitrous tank, fuzzy dice, hood ornament ripped off a Jag…"_

" …_We …challenge …all …races …we …encounter," Yellow explained. " ...Highest …technology. …Best …operator."_

"…_In …this …way," added Blue, "…Kromengel …is …spared …extensive …futile …wars."_

_Suddenly Ed understood. "You want a _race_? That's what you're after? A chance to get your funky non-Euclidean butts kicked?"_

_Another brief buzzing conference. "…Yes. …We …desire …a …_race_. …Your …best …_car_ …against …our …analogous …technology. …Best …operators …at …helm. …Winner …take …this …planet."_

"_Planet? Hey, man, I'm up for the race, but I can't guarantee the planet. "_

"…_If …we …win, …that …will …not …matter. …Superior …cultures …always …subjugate …inferior. …It …is …the …nature …of …existence."_

"_And if I win?"_

" …_We …will …depart. …We …have …no …wish …to …be …subjugated …ourselves." _

_Ed's mind was racing. The Kepler could have left these guys in the dust, he was sure, but it was gone. Only Kim Possible's little Sloth coupe was anywhere close. Yeah. Red's car was fast enough. It just might work. If he could just get his hands on it before the race, learn it inside and out, he could beat these guys._

_He knew he could. He was Motor Ed._

"_A race, then. Give me a month, man. A month to the day, and I'll be ready for you. Best car, best driver. Hope you guys are ready to go home, cause you're gonna go down."_

"…_We …will …see. …Do …not …deceive …us, …Motor …Ed …Lipsky. …We …will …be …watching."_

"And then I was back on Earth," finished the radio, "and everywhere I went, I saw these guys. Thought I was losin' my marbles. "

"We saw them too. Thought they were modern art." _They're aliens_, she thought. _They don't think like we do. Standing around motionless for weeks hadn't bothered them in the least. It was the easiest way to keep an eye on Ed. _

"The guys at Auto Doctors started worryin' about the boss. Bunch of 'em quit. That didn't help matters. Couldn't suss any way to boost your car, either, until you handed it to me. Connor said your boytoy wrecked it for ya. Guess I owe him one."

"I'm not her _boytoy_," Ron furiously retorted. "And it coulda happened to anybody. We were comin' back from the Fearless FerretCon, and I was trying to give Rufus some pizza when the soda pop turned over –"

"Kim, "came her mother's angry voice from the midst of the monstrous mob, "has Ron been driving your car?"

"We'll talk about it later, Mom!"

Oblivious to the distractions, Ed was still unfolding his plan. "We mounted some remote controls in your vehicle, so I could take it home at leisure. And that's how I'm gonna win this race for us. Tell Yellow I'm ready for him."

"…Highest …technology, ...best ….operator. …Those …are …the …conditions, …Motor …Ed …Lipsky. …Remote …control …will …not …be …accepted." Yellow stretched out its distorted arm, pointed at the Sloth. Sparks flew from the dash, from beneath the hood. "…Remote …control …terminated. …Select …your …operator."

Back in Middleton, in the darkened offices of Auto Doctors, screens went blank, readouts flattened. Motor Ed unstrapped himself from the simulator, stepped out. "Connor, man, " he told his assistant, "it's time to get out of town. Every dude for himself."

"What's happening?"

"End of the world, man. Seriously."

"Aww, crap. I was thinkin' of catchin' a plane to Atlantic City this weekend."

"Better go now. While the goin's good. And if you see any weird statues on the way, steer clear of 'em."

"Like the ones in the doorway?"

"Yeah," Ed replied morosely, as he looked around, realized they were at every window, every exit. "You're gonna haveta postpone that trip."

"Bogus."

"You said it."

Across the length and breadth of Middleton, similar events occurred; workers imprisoned at their jobs, families imprisoned in their houses. This human colony had been the contact point; after their victory, the Septenant would quickly overtake the entire globe. It had been done on numberless worlds, countless times before.

They had no desire to harm their captives; their fates would be decided, as always, by the challenge. Only a few three-dimensional species had proven superior to the extra-dimensional creatures.

They did not expect humanity to join that august group.

"What if we don't race?" Ron blurted, desperately.

"…We …win …by …default. …Invasion …begins. …Kromengel …annexes …another…planet …of …slaves."

"I'll do it," Kim announced. "_I'll_ race you."

"KP!" Ron's jaw dropped. "You don't know anything about racing! You don't even watch it on TV! And you haven't even had your license _that_ long – "

"Thanks, Ron," she hissed, sotto voce. "Stop helping me."

Yellow returned to its normal size, rejoined the others as a violet figure separated itself from the Septenant swarm.

"…In …the …name …of …Zsavollo, ...Voyevode …of …Kromengel, …I …accept …your …challenge," it proclaimed, as if fulfilling a ritual. "…Your …_car_ …against …my …_arlamox_." It stalked toward the young woman, who fearlessly stood her ground. "…I …offer …you …the …chance …for …surrender. …I …have …been …Kromengel …arlamox …champion …for …fourteen …consecutive …zorlars. …You …cannot …defeat …me …with …_that_."

"_That_ is the _Sloth_. My brothers built it. It can blow the pants off your – arlamox. And I'm Kim Possible." She looked the violet thing in what she hoped was the eye. "I can do anything."


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: nothing belongs to me if you've seen it on TV. Soundtrack for this chapter: _Departure from the Northern Wasteland _by Michael Hoenig; _Emissaries_ by Radio Massacre International;_ To Shatter All Accord_ by Discipline.

* * *

She blinked and they were somewhere else, a place where galaxies reeled and crumbled on the horizon, where incomprehensible objects floated by, making bizarre sounds as they passed, where a road like a grey ribbon stretched itself without support through the alien space, twisting and turning, coiling back on itself. Far, far ahead it ended at a strangely carven gate; through that gate she could see, dimly, the sane and familiar landscape of the Earth they had departed.

Countless Septenant, of every conceivable hue, hovered nearby, watching. The army of the realm of Kromengel, awaiting the order to invade Kim's world.

On that eerie road the Sloth waited for her; she opened the door, got in, fastened the seatbelt as if in a dream. Returned the little switch in the steering column to its 'on' position. Was surprised to find Ron in the backseat, already fastened in. "You'll need someone to operate the back-seat controls," he said, quietly.

"I'll make the Tweebs move all that up front when they get back from camp." They wanted to say something more, but neither of them could frame the words. Not here. Not now. The expression passed unspoken between them.

She looked to one side; her violet opponent stood within a hovering, semi-transparent crystal that was concave one second, convex the next. The much-vaunted arlamox, no doubt. She wasn't impressed.

It was impossible to read the Septenant's expression or body language, but somehow she knew it was gloating, secure in its skill.

Yellow suddenly unfolded itself from nowhere, stood between the dueling vehicles. "…First …to …return …to …the …third …dimension …is …the …victor. …Any …maneuver …is …acceptable; …only …nuclear …weapons …are …forbidden …from …the …course. …Too …much …cleanup …afterward. …Any …other …armament …is …honored."

The teens exchanged a fearful glance. "Armament?" Kim shouted at the yellow alien.

Without response, Yellow folded itself back into nothingness, leaving a floating traffic light in its stead.

Red.

The purple pilot of the arlamox stretched into a new form, merging in part with its vehicle.

Kim turned the key; the Sloth's engine began to rumble. She tensed behind the wheel.

Yellow.

The arlamox emitted a weird whistling sound that climbed into inaudibility as a new, audible layer came in beneath it, beginning the cycle anew. At the same time, spirals of light whirled from beneath it.

The Sloth roared as Kim fed it more fuel, black exhaust spewing from its pipes.

The traffic light exploded in a cascading flare of green.

Instantly the arlamox shot forward; as it did, a weirdly bent antenna sprouted from its top, sprayed a beam of white-hot energy directly at the Sloth. Kim screeched to one side, barely evading the blast, almost driving off the road. Ron stared out the side window into the starless abyss, too horrified to scream a warning.

The arlamox hurtled into the lead.

A sound arose from the Septenant spectators; the teens instinctively knew it was a cheer.

With a snarl, Kim shifted gears; Ron threw a switch and the Sloth's air scoop popped out of the hood. The little coupe surged toward the alien vehicle. The beam flared out again, blasting holes in the road; Kim dodged them like an expert. Her experience avoiding the potholes in the Middleton-Upperton Boulevard finally came in handy.

The arlamox increased its lead, flinging itself up a ramp.

"KP," said Ron, "just up ahead, drive off the left edge of the road. It'll drop us to the next level, but he'll have to finish that loop to get there."

She didn't have time to question the advice; everything was happening too fast. The Sloth shot off the edge into the void, plummeted down, struck the lower level of the road and bounced, almost flying out of control. But now the arlamox was coming out of the loop, heading toward them. The ray reached out; Kim spun the Sloth in a controlled skid, taking it behind a floating rock formation that was pulverized by the blast.

An instant later, she shifted gears again, floored it, squalled out just ahead of the falling rubble. "_Weapons_," snapped Kim. "No one said _anything_ about weapons. We got nothin'."

"Yeah, we do. We've got a plan, KP."

"What?"

"Let him catch up with us."

"Are you crazy? It's all I can do to stay in the lead!" Racing was terrifying. Only a maniac like Motor Ed could get any enjoyment out of it.

"No, really, let him get in closer."

The arlamox howled toward them.

"Don't make it too easy. Reel him in."

"The _ray_ –"

"Let him think he's got us."

She screeched into a curve; the car went up on two wheels, came down with a slam. The ray seared the air where the Sloth had been.

"Closer!"

The arlamox loomed gigantic in the side mirror; the antenna sprang out, homing in for the kill. She could see the inscrutable face of her alien opponent. "_Ron_ –"

Ron slammed his fist down on the rocket button.

The engines burst from the trunk, belching flame, engulfing the arlamox. Cracks appeared in its flawless crystalline form. The purple thing within changed form once more, throwing its vehicle into a wild, top-like spinning, extinguishing the flames that clung to it. But that maneuver cost it precious time; the Sloth blazed even further ahead, shooting up a ramp into a wild corkscrew that put any roller coaster to shame.

Sweating bullets, Kim grimly held the car on the road, her heart hammering, her jaw clenched so tight it hurt. Even the US Cheerleading Finals last year hadn't been this grueling. But it was almost over.

They were approaching the gate to Earth and victory.

"We're gonna win this thing, " Ron shouted. "First four-dimensional _boooo-yah_!"

Then the left rear tire blew.

The Sloth spun sideways, sparks flying from the wheel rim. Their opponent blazed forward, shot past them, flying toward the finish gate. With it went the hope of the world.

"_NO!_ _I won't let it happen_!" Kim cried, and triggered the grappling beam. The Tweebs had once used it to dismantle Bonnie's car piecemeal; she didn't care what it did to the arlamox. Any weapon was acceptable. It was all they had.

The beam shot out, not at their opponent, but almost straight up, attaching itself to a monstrous rock formation floating overhead, dragging the Sloth off the road, leaving the little car dangling by the beam over the black void of Kromengel.

"Kim! What th – What're you _doing_?"

Too late she remembered the mechanic at Auto Doctors warning her to get the beam calibrated: "_If you'd set it off now, who knows what might happen." _Now she knew. But she was Kim Possible. She could do anything . She could still salvage this.

"_Ron, rockets are go!"_

A moment of sanity broke through Ron's panic. Unnecessarily. "Did you just quote Captain Constellation?"

"_The rockets, _Ron! Give 'em _everything they've got_! _ Now!"_

She turned off the grappling beam and The Sloth launched itself on a tail of flame, describing a perfect arc, soaring like a meteor toward the finish gate and their opponent. She smiled, a fierce victorious grin, seeing the arlamox just ahead, certain now that she could overtake it, win this race by a nose, just like she'd brought the team to victory in the Cheerleading Finals, just like she'd kept her 4.0 average for twelve years, just like she'd saved the world a hundred times before.

Because she was Kim Possible, and she could do anything.

Almost.

The Sloth bounced out of the gate, losing another tire in the process . The rocket engines coughed, spluttered, shut down, out of fuel.

The violet Septenant disembarked from the cracked crystal of its arlamox, watching the car screech to a halt on the Middleton roadway, under the blue skies of Earth.

Skies that would soon belong to Kromengel.

Kim sat behind the wheel, seemingly shell-shocked. "We – we _lost_."

"Come on, KP," came Ron's voice, right beside her, a million miles away. "The car might blow up or something. Who knows." His strong hands steadied her as she stepped from the car, still unable to accept what had happened.

The violet creature jeered. "…Inferior …species. …Inferior …technology. …You …will …probably …be …inferior …slaves …as …well."

"Come _on_, then!" Kim assumed a battle stance; Ron tried to hold her back, but she shook him off, stepped forward, furious. "Come on! No _races_. No _rays_. Let's _fight_."

Yellow rose up from the earth, standing before her. "…The …challenge ….is …complete. …You …are …defeated."

"_No_! No, I'm not. _We're_ not. _Fight me_!" she screamed, and suddenly broke into tears.

Ron held her, spoke to her quietly. "It doesn't matter, Kim. No one can win all the time." Their eyes met; she was unable to speak. "Sometimes things don't go like we planned. It's all right. We still have each other."

She knew he was right, but she could not admit it.

The alien swarm had surrounded them. He stroked her hair, said words he wasn't sure he believed. "There'll be another chance. This isn't the end. We won't submit. Someday we'll get another chance."

"Together?" asked the young woman.

"Together," replied the young man, watching the aliens close in.

A creature broke through the swarm, conveyed a message to their yellow leader, an urgent tone in its alien buzzing. The swarm stopped its advance.

Yellow spoke to the teenagers, annoyance in its strange voice: "…This …has …never …happened …in …the …history …of …the …Septenant. …There …will …be …no …invasion."

Kim looked up at it, uncomprehending. "W – what? But we lost. I lost."

"…Superior …species …are …to …be …avoided. …Superior …races …always …subjugate …the …inferior."

"But we _lost_."

It drew itself up to its full height. "…Earth …is …not …the …only …planet …we …have …challenged," it droned, and suddenly the aliens were gone.

"They – they changed their minds," Ron said.

"I wonder …why?" Kim said, in barely a whisper, looking up at the sky, wondering what was coming next. She wouldn't have long to wait for an answer.

Unseen and undetected by Earth defenses, the mighty ship orbited the tiny blue planet, a planet so unlike its homeworld. Warmonga, barbarian queen of the Lorwardians, had come across the lightyears on a single quest: to pledge her strength and technology to the service of the Great Blue, the one destined to lead her people in battle.

Inhuman strength. Superior technology.

Her people had once been put to the test, and had not been found wanting.


End file.
